Optimisfits Read online

  The Bible puts it this way: We walk by faith, not by sight.

  I can’t see God, but every day I can see His effects.

  Creation testifies of a Creator. When I see the Mona Lisa, I don’t think it is just an accidental by-product of fortuitous events. I see da Vinci. When I see the miraculous world that surrounds us, I see God’s fingerprints all over it.

  13

  THE DRAGONS BEHIND THE DOOR

  We live in a world of wonders, but it is so very easy to become jaded.

  As we get older we become accustomed to the miracles that surround us. We lose the magic. We lose the wonder.

  As we get older we stand in front of the door but we don’t bother to open it because we think we already know what is behind it.

  Many blame the popular version of scientific thinking like you see on TV documentaries for this diminution of a sense of wonder. And yes, there is a certain kind of scientific thinker who is not really as interested in explaining as in explaining away.

  But the pursuit of real science increases the sense of wonder. We realize that we are surrounded by mysteries.

  Religion is often like that popular version of science. When it pretends that the awesome mystery of God can be reduced to a handful of theological propositions or a list of moral precepts or a defense of Western culture…then religion is every bit as reductionist as the worst kind of science.

  But real spirituality, real faith, real theology…these embrace the mystery and live in the joy of constant discovery of the deeper places God wants to take us.

  It drives me cuckoo when religion puts itself forward as being against science and against logic and against open-minded thinking. The questions aren’t very meaningful when you already think you have all the answers.

  It leads to all kinds of evils. It forbids people like Galileo and Copernicus from showing us the splendor of the solar system. It threatens any fresh thinking that goes against the official interpretation of the Bible. These greatest scientists of the past weren’t questioning the Bible, just the current interpretation of their time, which we now know was wrong.

  When religious thinking refuses to keep learning, it gets in the way of progress.

  It turns away people who value thinking deeply about things. Successful people, it has been said, have small TVs and large libraries, and failures have small libraries and big TVs. That is probably an overstatement…and I do like my wide-screen television. But there is a lot of truth hidden in that overgeneralization.

  Read more. Keep your mind open. Pay attention.

  But don’t just read the stuff you know will support what you already believe.

  When it comes to keeping the mind awake and open, Optimisfits don’t believe in playing it safe.

  Let your mind wander among the wonders.

  Be like that child who is fascinated about how things work and who expects a surprise behind every closed door.

  You can’t do that if you have a closed mind.

  14

  MY HEROES

  Some of the most important members of my Squad are no longer alive.

  And no, they aren’t undead zombies.

  They no longer happen to be walking around on this planet, but their influence continues to be felt. They are Optimsfits all, even if the term didn’t exist in their day. They have taught me how to think and how to live and how to ask better questions.

  So, cue the music. Here are a few of the members of my Optimisfit Hall of Fame:

  He was the jolly journalist who wrote an unbelievable number of books during his lifetime. He made the writing look effortless because of his genius. He penned books defending the reasonableness of the faith, biographies of famous saints and literary figures, poetry, wild and fantastical fiction, and wry mystery novels. He was quick with an argument and even quicker with a witty insight. He was bigger than life, not only in reputation, but also in stature. Well-rounded in every sense of the word. A fat, jolly British Santa Claus of metaphysics.

  He was G.K. Chesterton.

  Like any good Optimisfit, he knew that this world was also Elfland—a world of mystery and magic, and he was like Gandalf striding its environs. And Chesterton was serious enough to know that you can’t take everything too seriously…and he didn’t.

  Chesterton loved to defend the truth against all comers, and one of his famous antagonists was the skinny and skeptical playwright, George Bernard Shaw. The two of them would debate publicly about faith and other important issues, much to the delight of the audiences who came to see them cross their verbal swords. Once, Chesterton remarked on Shaw’s emaciated form by saying, “I see there has been a famine in the land.” Shaw looked Chesterton up and down and said, “And I see the cause of it.” “If I were as fat as you,” added Shaw, “I would hang myself.” To which Chesterton countered, “If I were to hang myself, I would use you as the rope.”

  Chesterton was an intellectual genius, but that didn’t make him snooty or arrogant. It made him childlike. He knew the wisdom to be found in fun, and the folly in taking yourself too seriously. “Angels can fly,” he once wrote, “because they take themselves lightly.”

  He never minded when his opinions made him controversial. He quipped, “I believe in getting into hot water; it keeps you clean.”

  When I am not writing books like the one you are reading, I am working on my still-unfinished epic fantasy novel. In that way I am a little like another of my misfit heroes—a man who wrote both inspiring literary sermons and imaginative fairy tales. He got kicked out of his job as a pastor because some members of the board of elders thought he put too much emphasis on God’s love. He believed that God was more generous and grace-filled than some people’s “orthodox” theology could accommodate.

  He was George MacDonald.

  When the leaders of organized religion took away his pulpit, he used the pages of books as his way of sharing his theological musings about God’s profligate love. He wrote books for adults, but his greatest books are the ones he wrote for children—or maybe we should say that they are fairy tales for the child in each of us.

  I’m not alone in my love for George MacDonald. He was C.S. Lewis’ favorite writer, and Lewis once claimed that he had never written a book that didn’t quote from MacDonald. In fact, it was a book by MacDonald that “baptized the imagination” of the man who would come to write the Narnia stories; the first step toward the light for C.S. Lewis. Lewis repaid the debt by making MacDonald the wise spiritual guide through the afterlife in The Great Divorce. And he always referred to MacDonald as “my master.”

  MacDonald once said, “Man finds it hard to get what he wants because he does not want the best; God finds it hard to give because He would give the best, and man will not take it.” His mission was to help people understand that what God offered was magnificent, and that we must receive it with a heart of childlike wonder. He once quipped that he couldn’t really believe in someone’s Christianity if children could never be found playing around their front door.

  God’s revelation could be found, he believed, not just in the ancient texts of Scripture, but in the magic of the stars, the sunset, and the daffodil. When a person sees things as they really are, they will see the holiness at the heart of the ordinary. Whereas false visions make commonplace things seem more ordinary, true visions reveal the extraordinariness of commonplace things.

  MacDonald wrote fantasy stories because he believed that this world is truly fairyland. And when I read his books I sense the truth of that belief. I can feel the Presence of something bigger rustling through every page. Or should I say, Someone bigger?

  One of my more down-to-earth Optimisfit heroes was the greatest evangelist of our time; a man who shared the Good News with millions of people. His message was simple, his delivery was passionate, and his results were astonishing. So many people owe their introduction to Jesus to this man.

  He was Billy Graham.

  He made a point of never criticizing those who believed diff
erently than he did. Early in his career as a preacher he was known as “machine-gun Billy” because he talked so fast, but he only turned that machine gun on people’s hearts, with a message of good news about God’s love.

  He refused to allow his crusades to be segregated, tearing down the barriers separating blacks and whites at a time when most Christians hadn’t awakened to the evils of racism. He refused to pay attention to the squabbles between the different denominations, and even put Catholic priests on the podium with him. He was heeding the prayer of Jesus, that all His followers would be one. Some criticized him harshly, but he was not a man of convenience; he was a man of conviction.

  I guess I have modeled my own speaking style after him. I love how he would roll up his sleeves and his eyes would start to burn with a piercing blue gaze of intensity. He used his whole body to gesture and emphasize his points. Passion like that always offends milquetoast mediocrity. I hope I can do the same. Billy always gave his all for the gospel. He had an amazing work ethic and a total focus on his mission. Long before he stood in front of crusade-sized crowds he would preach to the local alligators for practice! (True story.)

  Faith can move mountains, but don’t be surprised when God hands you a shovel.

  My final Optimisfit hero in the Hall of Fame was a blond-haired Macedonian who believed that he was a son of a god, and he outraced the winged chariot of time by conquering most of the known world by the age of 32. He traveled with his personal copy of Homer’s Iliad in his pack and would often fall asleep reading about the exploits of Achilles, who was his own model for surpassing even the exploits of the gods. He saw himself, in fact, as a reincarnation of Achilles, just as Patton believed he was a Viking in a previous life. He was fearless and heroic and dreamed outsized dreams.

  He was Alexander the Great.

  He roared with authority. He was savage, not average. He was unrelenting, driving his army to the brink of exhaustion in pursuit of the prize. He once said, “I am not afraid of an army of lions which are led by a sheep; I am afraid of an army of sheep which are led by a lion.” He took the fight to his enemies.

  In that way, Alexander models the One whom Scripture dubs the “Captain of Salvation.” Jesus told His disciples that the Gates of Hell would not prevail against those who followed Him. But consider this. Gates don’t attack. When you grab a weapon for battle, you don’t use a gate. You don’t hoist a gate and yell threateningly, “Here I come!” No, you take a sword or an axe or a bow and arrow. A gate is not a weapon. So what Jesus was saying is that we are to go on the offense. We are to be on the attack against the powers of darkness.

  Optimisfits don’t just stand by and watch the enemy do his work. We don’t cower. We don’t try to negotiate terms with darkness.

  We are never hopeless. We are always fearless. We pour water on the fire of our fears. We pour gasoline on the passions of our dreams.

  The more people told Alexander that something was impossible, the more attracted he was to the challenge. He had an absurdly buoyant hope.

  Yes, Alexander was probably clinically insane. But those who are crazy enough to think they can change the world are the ones who actually do. Realistic people don’t change the world. Maybe we all could do with being a little less sane. What we need is not more bored realism, but more wild idealism.

  It’s better to attempt great things for God and fail than to attempt small, safe things, and succeed.

  Alexander became a legend. Which sounds like a pretty good goal. We Optimisfits want to live in legendary mode. We can take the battle to the enemy and claim the crowns of victory in the Kingdom of God.

  We were made for thrones, not graves.

  None of my heroes chose the safe route. None of them were normal. None of them settled for small successes. So, if life is a battle, let’s take our place alongside our Heavenly King. We are childlike, we are faithful, we are brave.

  And we are just a little foolhardy…in the best possible way.

  15

  DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER

  DO NOT READ THE NEXT SENTENCE!!!

  I’m warning you!!!

  You little rebel. I like you. Welcome to Dauntless.

  #nourishyourinnerrebel #zerofear #factiondauntless

  16

  MY DAD IS CHUCK NORRIS

  My dad is Chuck Norris.

  Well, not literally. But he looks a lot like him and he has the same kind of muscular physique. He likes to wear those tank tops that show off his “guns.” (“Sun’s out, guns out.”) During my childhood, Walker, Texas Ranger was one of the most popular programs on TV, and Dad was a dead ringer for the mighty Chuck Norris, who starred in that show. Norris could always stride with confidence into even the most uncertain of situations and set things right with his imposing stature and fearless demeanor.

  Sadly, I am nothing like my dad.

  As a kid I got beat up a lot by a bully who lived on the same block.

  Her name was Samantha, and she loved putting me in my place.

  As I grew older, I continued to attract bullies. After all, I was skinny, had a voice that caused me to be mistaken for a girl at the Taco Bell drive-thru, and I couldn’t bench press much more than the bar itself.

  Despite all that, I never lost a fight.

  I never lost a fight because I always ran away.

  I fled for my life.

  Fortunately, my school was only a block from my home. So, when a bully would threaten me I’d run to my dad for protection. In the presence of my dad, I became fearless. Even a bit cocky.

  “You got a problem with me? Take it up with him,” I’d say. “You aren’t that intimidating. Go ahead, take a long walk off a short pier,” I’d threaten, or something along those lines.

  One look at my dad and the bullies would retreat.

  When David faced off against the giant Goliath he taunted him as “an uncircumcised Philistine,” which was an example of ancient trash talk. Similarly, I could fearlessly taunt the bullies when my dad was nearby. Though I was a hopeless fighter myself, I had all the confidence in the world when my father had my back.

  Nothing much has changed.

  Based on my own courage I am still not going to get very far. But my Heavenly Father is one seriously focused fighter.

  In Romans 8:37, Paul said that through the love of the Father we are “more than conquerors.” In the original Greek language, the phrase literally means that we are “super-overcomers.” All because we can lean on the One who is braver than Batman, stronger than Superman, more indomitable than Ironman, more audacious than Antman. His name is the “Son of Man” and He is the warrior (Exodus 15:3) and He’s fighting battles on our behalf and answering prayers at our behest. I cannot lose. I may fail from time to time, but ultimately, I will never lose. For His love never fails.

  Yeah, One greater than Chuck Norris is beside me.

  And I am a superhero.

  My superpowers are trust and dependence.

  Marvel and D.C. should be looking me up any day.

  17

  PRAYERS AT MIDNIGHT

  I like to walk through the city at night, rambling along under the lights and the stars with no particular destination in mind. This is when I do some of my best praying.

  I mosey along through the quiet streets and talk to God about the things that are on my heart.

  My prayers aren’t necessarily the noble ones about orphans in Gambia. Often, they are more like sharing gossip with a good friend. I talk to Him about the people I love as well as the people who really bug me. I tell Him about my girl problems, insecurities, nagging questions, and my deepest dreams.

  He tells me that my dreams can only fully come into focus once I have put aside my fear.

  Message received.

  Now, some of you will take me for a nut job if I tell you that God talks back to me. But He does.

  In my defense, consider what Mother Teresa said in an interview with Dan Rather. He asked her: “When you talk to God, what do you say?�
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  “I don’t say anything,” she answered. “I listen.”

  “When God talks to you, what does He say?”

  “He doesn’t say anything,” she replied. “He listens.”

  Rather looked confused, so she said, “And if that doesn’t make sense to you, I can’t explain it.”

  Boom.

  A lot of the best things really can’t be explained.

  Deep calls unto deep.

  Research shows that few things are as good for your brain as the regular practice of prayer. Not only does it help you feel closer to God, but it also fires the frontal lobe of the brain and engages our highest intellectual capabilities.

  Yep. Prayer actually makes you smarter.

  Who knew?

  Well, God did.

  Sometimes I don’t bother actually talking with Him about anything specific. We just walk the streets together underneath the glowing street lamps and the blinking traffic lights and all the stars twinkling in the velvet night sky.

  When you are really in love, sometimes there are just no words.